


The Ice Prince

by SariahHime



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Drunkenness, M/M, Mild Language, Slow Burn, figure skating AU, more tags to come, olympic au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7852594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SariahHime/pseuds/SariahHime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro retires from a successful career as an Olympic figure skater, hoping to find peace as a small town coach. He can finally be free from his wild fans and all the pressure that comes from competition. But life has other plans for him.<br/>When the fiery and elegant Keith Kogane unknowingly skates right into Shiro's hands, their lives become intertwined in the flashy world of competitive figure skating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just need all of you to know my working title for this piece is "Sheith on Ice." I have zero regrets. Thank Lordzuuko for the real title though.
> 
> Oh boy, this is not something I ever thought I would write, but here I am. With school starting soon it will be hard to update timely but I swear I'll get this story out even if I have to wring myself dry.

The roar of the crowd created vibrations in Shiro’s chest. He could barely hear his own tense breaths over the noise. When his name was announced over the speakers, summoning him to the cold stage, the cheers amplified.

They were all waiting for him; the world was watching. This would be his last Olympic Games, before a nice retirement into local competitions. He smiled gently at the thought of all the pressure and nerves finally subsiding. Soon he could go home.

He took in a deep breath, eyes closed, and stood from the athlete’s bench. But then a sharp slap to his shoulder made him stumble.

“You got this, Shiro!” Allura smiled broadly at him.

Shiro chuckled, sighing in relief. “Thanks, coach. I won't let you down.”

“I know,” she said with a wink. “Now go win us another gold.”

Shiro saluted her, silently thankful to have had someone as talented as her to teach him. After another steadying breath, he pushed out onto the ice.

The change was immediate. Lights focused on his form, black and white sequins sparkling, as he raised his arms to the crowd and judges. They were waiting for him. He could feel their anticipation like a fog settling over the ice.

As a performer, this was his element. When the music starts, and drowns out the cheers, his focus becomes himself. He knew he had to entertain his fans, but more than that he wanted his passion to shine through his dance.

At the center of the rink, he came to a stop. A buzz filled the arena, the sound of hushed whispers excitedly waiting for him to start. He couldn't help but smile then as the cold permeated his thin pants, and what little existed of his decorative top.

He extended his right arm, watching the white sequins there refract the light and make small rainbows in his vision. Then he extended his left, marveling at how wonderfully the black sequins on that arm contrasted with the ice. He felt good today.

Before he knew it, the music started and he was moving. Gliding and jumping across the ice, relishing in the power his legs provided him. He was built more sturdy than most male figure skaters, and he enjoyed what benefits that gave him. Judges always noted how strong he looked when landing Axels.

His routine was second nature to him, and before long the rush was over. He bowed, grinning from ear to ear, feeling more confident than ever in his performance. To his right he could see Allura jumping up and down, eyes bright with tears. Before him the judges were nodding appreciatively, and behind them the crowd was on its feet.

This is what he lived for. This is what he was giving up.

\---

“Hey there, Mr. Olympian!” A voice called from the ice rink.

Shiro looked up from the day’s schedule to see Lance, a fellow employee and figure skater, gliding towards him. He had his usual cocky grin on his face, hands tucked into his pockets. Shiro rolled his eyes.

“Call me that again, and I'll tell Hunk your little secret,” Shiro replied testily.

Lance stumbled on the ice. “Woah, woah, woah. Let's not get ahead of ourselves now. No need to out me, man.”

Shiro flipped to the next page, noting there was a new student in his five and up class. Lance stepped off the ice, peeking at the clipboard over his shoulder. Shiro lifted it higher, way out of Lance’s reach.

“Shouldn't you be sweeping the rink?” Shiro asked, chuckling at Lance’s attempts to reach the clipboard.

“Oh, c’mon!” Lance whined. “Isn't that Hunk’s job? He's the janitor around here. You can't keep me on cleaning duty forever.”

Shiro sighed, then handed him the papers. Lance beamed.

“Alright, you can teach the beginners today,” Shiro said. “But you better not let Hunk hear you say he's just a janitor. I don't want to have to scrape you off the ice.”

Lance shivered at the thought of being flattened by the Zamboni. “Duly noted, sir.”

Shiro sat down on a bench, then dug into his bags for his skates. He checked the blades and the wear on the leather, before lacing his feet up securely. Normally he would tape his ankles, but he didn't expect to be doing anything extravagant today. Just another normal days of classes at his ice rink.

He'd finished lacing his second skate when movement on the ice caught his attention. He looked up just in time to see a red blur fly across the rink.

“Woah!” Lance leaned over the low wall, squinting to the other end of the arena. “Who the hell is that?”

Shiro joined him, brow furrowed in confusion. They didn't get a lot of free skaters. The red blur quickly slowed, and Shiro could tell the person was a young guy. Early 20’s was his best guess.

His shock of black hair, pulled back in a low pony tail, stood out against his red hoodie. He had on a pair of black gloves that matched his skates. At first Shiro assumed he was just here to have fun, but six in the morning was an awful time to be awake. Nothing happy ever happens at six in the morning.

“Hey,” Lance said after a minute. “This guy’s kinda good.”

Shiro had to agree. The guy was more graceful than any male skater he'd ever seen, and even more so than many female skaters. It was like watching silk caught in the wind. His arms and legs worked in tandem to create gentle movements that quickly snapped into fast jumps and spins.

“Kinda?” Shiro said, a smile pulling at his lips. “He's _really_ good.”

Lance looked back over his shoulder, brow raised curiously. “Careful there, your gay is showing.”

Shiro frowned. “Lance I _am_ gay. It's always showing.”

Lance shrugged, then stepped out onto the ice. “Just thought I'd warn you before you have to go tell him he can't skate here,” Lance said innocently. He turned halfway across the rink to skate backwards as he spoke. “Don't want you to accidentally tell him how pretty his camel spins are.”

Shiro blushed, then grumbled under his breath. Lance left the rink with a satisfied grin. Shiro supposed he deserved it after teasing Lance about his crush on Hunk.

He looked back to the guy in red, just as he performed a flawless butterfly spin. Shiro swallowed heavily. He was still slightly amazed this guy moved so freely. With a silent prayer to not get tongue tied, Shiro pulled his beanie down over his ears then skated out onto the ice to talk to him.

The guy was absolutely gorgeous up close. Shiro could hear his huffs and grunts when he landed, and even the noise of the music from his headphones. He hadn't noticed Shiro yet. But Shiro understood, it was easy to get lost in a performance once you got started. He watched from a few yards back, arms crossed over his chest, appreciating the view with a sly grin.

At one point, the guy paused to fiddle with his music player, and Shiro began clapping to show his approval. The guy jumped, snapped his head up, then tugged off his headphones.

“Can I help you?” He asked irritably.

Shiro put a hand on his hip. “I think the better question is can _I_ help _you_? This is my rink, after all.”

He blinked in surprise, taking in Shiro from his head to his feet. He took a step back. “You're Takashi Shirogane…”

Shiro nodded. “I just go by Shiro, actually. But to each his own.”

The guy sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “I am so sorry, I'm such an idiot.”

“No, no,” Shiro laughed. “It's fine. I just wanted to let you know the free skate time is at six in the evening, not morning.”

The dark haired guy blushed so hard, he nearly matched his hoodie. “Shit, sorry man. I just moved here and must've read the sign on the door wrong.”

For the first time, Shiro noticed the stranger’s eyes. A gorgeous deep purple, wide with youth. He figured he was right about his age guess. The guy blinked and Shiro snapped back to reality.

“Uh,” Shiro replied awkwardly. “Don't worry about it. In fact, you can stay. Just, you can only use this half of the rink okay?”

The guy’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? I can come back later—”

“No!” Shiro said quickly. The guy froze in surprise. “I mean,” Shiro added. “It's just a beginner class that comes in at seven and I have to make sure the rink is clean first, but as long as you stay over here I can just use the other half.”

The guy nodded slowly. Shiro wanted to melt into the floor.

“Need help?” He asked, pushing up the sleeves of his red hoodie.

“Um…” Shiro said back stupidly. “I can't pay you.”

He mentally smacked himself.

The guy laughed. “That's fine. Since you're letting me use it in off hours, I might as well help you clean the rink.”

Shiro blinked a few times in an attempt to reboot his brain. The guy was cute and had an amazing laugh. He completely forgot that it was Lance’s job to sweep before the kids came in.

“Okay,” Shiro agreed. “I just use a broom to clean a section for the kids. We have a guy who resurfaces it later for the more advanced classes.”

The guy nodded, then reached out a gloved hand. Shiro looked at it for a moment before he realized he was initiating a handshake. A second too late to be considered socially acceptable, Shiro accepted the handshake.

“My name’s Keith,” he said. “Thanks for letting me use the rink and…” he paused, eyes darting away awkwardly. “It's actually really cool to meet you.”

Shiro cleared his throat, heart thumping in his chest. “Oh, um thank you, Keith. It's not a big deal, or whatever. I mean… I'm not a big deal.”

Keith smiled and released his hand. Shiro’s fingers tingled from the touch.

“Not a big deal?” Keith replied. “You've won the gold medal in figure skating four times. Only like...three other people have done that!”

Shiro could feel his face heating up. “Ah, well… Thank you very much. I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

A wolf whistle across the rink startled them both. Shiro turned sharply to glare menacingly at Lance. He was leaned casually against the wall, Hunk standing behind him in the stands. Shiro bit back what he wanted to say, a harsh scolding of his eavesdropping employee, and skated with Keith towards them.

“I guess it's time to start that cleaning,” Keith laughed awkwardly. Shiro silently cursed his bad luck with guys.

Hunk took Keith to grab the brooms while Shiro berated Lance for calling him out. When they returned, Keith gave a curious look to Lance who was considerably more pouty than when he left, before giving a broom to Shiro.

“Oh, I'll just take—” Lance started to say and reached for the broom in Shiro’s hand, but Shiro yanked it away quickly.

“That's not your job, remember?” Shiro gave him a knowing look, hoping he would take the hint.

Lance frowned, looking from Shiro to Keith waiting patiently behind him with another broom. He squinted, clearly forcing his brain to catch up, before nodding once.

“Riiiiight,” Lance said dramatically. “I'm not the janitor—”

“It's not called being a “janitor,” Lance!” Hunk complained from the bench.

“I'm not the one who,” Lance fought for a better word, “ _engineers_...the rink?”

Hunk rolled his eyes.

Shiro wished he could just duct tape his mouth shut. Keith was starting to look very confused.

“Just go get the supplies for the first class,” Shiro sighed and waved him off like he was a pesky fly. “I'll sweep the kid’s area with Keith.”

“Aye, aye captain,” Lance said and saluted Shiro. Then he and Hunk were gone, off into the recesses of the storage closet.

“Well he's something,” Keith said after they'd gone. “Does he work here?”

“Unfortunately,” Shiro mumbled under his breath.

Keith gave him a questioning look, but didn't press Shiro further in favor of focusing on his job.

“He's actually a figure skater as well,” Shiro clarified.

“Really?” Keith said, shocked. “What's his name?”

“Lance McClain,” Shiro said with a shrug. “Was in the 2018 Winter Olympics with me. He wasn't a medal contender, but he's still really good.”

Keith nodded like he understood, resuming sweeping away the small bits of loose ice on the surface of the rink.

“And the other guy?” Keith asked.

“Hunk?” Shiro replied. “He's the backbone of this place. Makes sure all the equipment is in good condition, resurfaces the rink, fixes the lights, pays the bills sometimes too.”

“A regular one man army,” Keith responded lightheartedly. A loose hair slipped from his pony tail, completely distracting Shiro with how Keith tucked it back behind his ear.

In their close proximity, Shiro was able to see the muscles on Keith’s forearms flex as he pushed and pulled the broom, sweeping it from side to side. The last time he'd felt this nervous in front of another person, they were judging him on his performance. Keith was really pretty.

“Hey,” Shiro said suddenly, pausing his sweeping. Keith looked up, hair falling into his face. Shiro's heart clenched.

“What's up?” Keith asked, tilting his head like a puppy.

“Where'd you learn to skate so well?” Shiro looked down to Keith’s feet out of habit. He could tell a lot about other skaters by the way their feet moved on the ice.

Keith shifted awkwardly. “I took lessons when I was little. But I'm mostly self taught.”

Shiro’s brows shot up. It took everything in him not to let his jaw drop too. “You mean to tell me you taught yourself how to do all those spins and jumps I saw earlier?”

Keith looked bashful, like he was afraid of saying something wrong. “Mostly? I mean, I watched a lot of...videos...of you.”

The admission completely floored Shiro. He knew he had a lot of fans, but ever since retiring last year, he'd been able to mostly avoid actually speaking to one. Not that he was doing it on purpose, but the small town he'd set up in wasn’t on many maps. Not a lot of traffic through the area.

“Oh,” Shiro said simply. “That's really cute.”

Before he realized what he'd said, Keith was burying his face into his gloved hands. Shiro bit his lip, fighting the smile threatening to stretch across his face. Keith wasn't just pretty. He was cute and sweet and Shiro was quickly realizing he wanted this guy to stay a little longer.

“Sorry,” Shiro laughed. “It's not every day I hear that. Especially from someone like you.”

Keith peaked out over his fingers, squeezing the broom to his chest like it could hide him. Shiro didn't think there was going to be much cleaning going on if they kept this up.

“Someone like me?” Keith asked shyly.

Shiro shrugged, playing off the compliment as he tried to continue sweeping. Lance and Hunk would be back with the cones any minute.

“Yeah,” Shiro remarked coolly. “Good skater, _really_ good skater, cute and friendly? Most of my fans are more interested in dating me than watching me skate.”

“ _Seriously?_ ” Keith replied. “That's so dumb.” As soon as he spoke, his eyes grew wide. “I mean, not that wanting to date you is dumb, like, I'm sure you're a great guy. I don't really know you but I can't say I wouldn't want to date you or something. Uh, you're pretty attractive so I can see why people want to date you but your skating is just so remarkable! You have so much power and passion in your performances, can't people see that—”

Shiro held up his hands. “Woah there, Keith. Take a breath. You're rambling.”

Keith quickly stopped talking then pulled up the neck of his hoodie to hide his mouth and nose. Shiro felt his knees go momentarily weak.

“My bad,” Keith mumbled into his hoodie. “You're just really cool and stuff.”

“I think you're cool too.” Shiro smiled. “Mind skating some for me? We’re done sweeping.”

“You want to see me skate?!” Keith cried into the fabric over his mouth. He finally uncovered his face, giving Shiro an odd look.

“If you don't mind?” Shiro replied gently. “I was really enjoying watching you before.”

Keith swallowed a lump in his throat. Shiro almost whined out loud when he saw a bead of sweat trickle down Keith’s neck.

“Only if you promise not to laugh,” Keith grumbled. “I'm not that good.”

Shiro held his hands up defensively. “I’m a teacher and coach. I see all types of skaters from the very beginner to professionals every day.”

Keith took a deep breath, set his broom against the wall, then turned towards the center of the rink. Shiro leaned against the low wall by their brooms, arms crossed over his chest. Keith might be the person he was looking for.

With practiced precision, Keith turned then took off across the rink. Shiro had to sit up out of sheer shock. Keith was incredibly fast. In fact, he was going too fast. If he tried any jumps or spins at that speed he would risk falling harshly on the ice.

But just as he hit a smooth glide, Keith leapt into the air, turning into a triple Axel, before landing perfectly on the ice. Almost immediately he pushed off with his back leg, flying effortlessly into a toe loop. Shiro’s heart seized in fear, worried he hadn't regained his balance properly after his first jump. But then Keith landed just as smoothly as the first time, gliding with one leg stretched elegantly behind him.

“Holy shit,” Shiro said to himself. Keith was amazing.

He pushed forward again, picking up speed as he skated towards Shiro. A few yards away, he hopped into a butterfly spin, then finished with a camel spin. He pulled out of it, gliding forward, as he reached behind himself to grab his outstretched back leg by the blade, and forced it above his head into a Biellmann position.

Shiro had never seen a male skater with such flexibility. Keith had a lot of potential. When he got closer to Shiro, he dropped his leg, and he could see a fresh sheen of sweat glowing on his face.

“Sorry those are the moves I’m best at,” Keith apologized. “I know it's not great or anything, but—”

“Keith, you're amazing,” Shiro remarked excitedly. “You really taught yourself all that?”

Keith shrugged, then tugged his hoodie off over his head. Shiro couldn't help but stare at his exposed arms and collar bones in his black v-neck. He really wished Keith wasn't so attractive.

“I learned the Axel from you,” Keith admitted. “But I can't get the landing right. I land so weakly, it's frustrating.”

Shiro almost laughed. But then he remembered that Keith seemed to be insecure and might take it the wrong way. “You move more gracefully on the ice than anyone I've ever seen. No offense, but your size isn't built for power.”

Keith blinked up at Shiro. He was quiet a moment as he looked from Shiro to his gloved hands. Then when he looked back up, he smiled.

“You mean that?” Keith asked. “I've never thought about it that way before. I was just trying to emulate…”

Keith trailed off, clearly embarrassed. Shiro wanted nothing more than to woo Keith right then and there. He was doing impossible things to his heart.

“Emulation is a good way to learn,” Shiro said. “But eventually you'll have to develop your own style. And I think yours is more about speed and elegance than power.”

Keith nodded fervently.

“If you'd like,” Shiro said shyly, “you can skate here whenever you want. I can give you private lessons.”

Shiro mentally scolded himself for making that sound so inappropriate.

Keith clutched at his hoodie, holding it tightly to his chest. He seemed to think a moment before replying. “I can't really afford private lessons. Especially from someone as great as you.”

Shiro leaned back against the wall again to disguise his weak knees.

“Then come work for me,” Shiro suggested. “In exchange, the lessons will be on the house.”

Keith gaped a moment. “What?! Are you for real?”

Shiro threw his head back and laughed. Then he looked at Keith and winked. “I'm only doing this because I think you have amazing potential. And the fact that you're cute helps too.”

On the inside, Shiro was screaming.

Keith smiled, tucking another stray lock of hair behind his ear. He fidgeted with his hoodie, squeezing the fabric in his fist.

“I...I don't think I could really say no to you,” Keith stammered. “A-and I think you're cute too.”

Shiro nearly slipped on the ice. He hadn't nearly fallen while standing still on the ice in years. It was going to be really hard helping Keith if he couldn't even keep his balance around him.

They stood there a moment, both grinning and blushing terribly, not sure what to say. Before either could figure it out, voices filtered into the rink.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance sighed exasperatedly. “I'll remember the bacon next time, I promise Hunk.”

“You better,” Hunk replied indignantly. “Lunch isn't the same without it.”

Keith turned away from Shiro, then pulled his hoodie back on. Shiro got the feeling it was so he could hide his face.

Lance and Hunk entered the rink with two large bins filled with cones, child sized butt pads, and small walkers to help the younger ones stand up on the ice.

“Care to start today?” Shiro asked to Keith’s back.

Keith looked back with a wide grin.

“Nothing would make me happier.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this timely update before it all goes to shit because school hates me.
> 
> I refer to Pidge as a female in this fic, FYI. Since she is in canon, a girl, I wanted to keep it consistent. Just thought I'd warn everyone in advance just in case.

“Mr. Shiro!”

Shiro felt a tug at his pant leg, then looked down to see Matt staring up at him with wide eyes. With a smile, Shiro knelt down to his height.

“What's up, buddy?” Shiro asked.

Matt turned and pointed to the front door where his mother was standing, waiting patiently. Shiro looked up at her. She waved lightly, gesturing to the child hiding behind her legs.

“My sister wants to skate, too!” Matt exclaimed. He went back to his mother, then tugged at his sister's hand. She tentatively stepped out from behind their mother.

Shiro waited patiently, still kneeling on the floor. Matt held his sister’s hand and guided her to Shiro.

“This is Katie,” Matt introduced her. “But don't call her that, okay? Only momma can.”

The girl looked up in amazement through thick, round glasses. Her light brown eyes blinked curiously at Shiro, like she was trying to figure him out. Eventually she stepped forward, tiny hand outstretched.

Shiro breathed a laugh and accepted her small handshake.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is Shiro. What's yours?”

“Pidge,” she replied happily. “Are you the teacher?”

Shiro nodded. “I am. Have you ever put on ice skates before?”

Pidge furrowed her brow, seeming to think a moment. She shook her head.

“That's okay,” Shiro said encouragingly. “I'll help you pick out a pair for you to keep, okay?”

Pidge looked back to her mother, who nodded her head in agreement. She turned back to Shiro, released her brother’s hand, and gave Shiro a thumbs up.

“You got a deal, mister!” Pidge beamed, showing off a missing front tooth.

Shiro fought every urge in himself to ruffle her hair and tell her how adorable she was. He figured she might not appreciate it.

One by one, the kids arrived. While Lance got the class started, Shiro took Keith and Pidge to show them the equipment shop.

“Okay, Pidge,” Shiro said as he looked down to her. “I'm gonna sit you up on the counter so we can try on some skates, alright?”

Pidge nodded, reaching up her tiny arms for Shiro to pick her up. Her toothy smile was so bright and cheerful for a new student. Most of the kids had trouble leaving their parents for the hour during class. Shiro easily lifted her, then placed her down gently on the front counter.

Keith was watching Shiro patiently. He was in awe of how good Shiro was with kids. Pidge had completely opened up to him in a matter of minutes.

“Keith,” Shiro called to his newest employee, “can you sit with Pidge a moment? I'm gonna pull some skates for her to try on.”

Keith looked to the little girl sitting on the counter, swinging her legs happily. She looked at him curiously.

“Sure, yeah,” Keith agreed. Shiro gave him a toothy grin.

With an encouraging pat to Keith’s shoulder, Shiro left through a door marked “Employees Only.”

It only took a few minutes for Shiro to find a few sizes for Pidge to try on. She was five years old, according to her mother, and she was small for her age.

When he came back out, a box of skates tucked under one arm, he was surprised to see an empty shop. Both Keith and Pidge were gone.

He looked back and forth, confused, before setting the box on the counter and stepping out into the front entrance of the rink. Through the glass to his left he could see Lance talking to the kids, showing them how to fall properly. But no sign of Keith or Pidge.   
  
Suddenly, he heard a light giggle. He turned to see the storage closet door slightly ajar, the lights off. Lance may be a bit much to handle at times, but he made sure to keep things organized and clean. That included always shutting the door to the storage closet once he was done.

He took a step towards it, and heard another giggle, followed by a deeper voice saying “shh!” Shiro quickly realized what was going on.

“Oh my,” he proclaimed dramatically. “Wherever could Pidge and Keith be?”

Another giggle, louder this time.

“Surely they haven't run away?” He fought the laughter in his voice. “Matt would be so sad to know his little sister is gone. I better go tell him!”

This time, there was no giggle. He quickly crossed the remaining space to the closet, listened for the unmistakeable sound of an antsy child shuffling her feet, before throwing the door open.

“Aha!” He shouted as light fell on the two hiding.

Keith was crouched in the floor next to Pidge, who was hopping from foot to foot excitedly. When she saw Shiro she squealed and threw her arms around Keith’s head.

“Don't let him take me, Prince Keith!” Pidge laughed. “I’ll be a good knight!”

Shiro eyed Pidge curiously, wondering what kind of game she'd come up with in her head. Keith shrugged, obviously as lost as Shiro.

“Well, every good knight needs a pair of ice skates,” Shiro offered. Pidge peeked up at him from where her face was buried in Keith’s hair.

“Do they come in green?” She asked.

“Absolutely,” Shiro replied.

After Pidge had been fitted and sent off to join her brother and Lance, Shiro sat down on a bleacher with Keith and the new hire paperwork.

“Sorry about running off,” Keith said abashedly. “Hard to say no to a little kid.”

Shiro chuckled lightly. “Don't worry about it. I was only slightly terrified at first.”

Keith blanched. “I am so sorry, I didn't even think about that! She just started playing pretend, talking about monsters and knights and something about aliens. Then she said her brother knew me—”

“I said don't worry, Keith,” Shiro repeated more firmly. “I'm just glad she's so receptive. Haven't had any five year olds in a while.”

Keith shifted uncomfortably on the bench, glancing down at the papers. Shiro followed his gaze.

“Right, the paperwork,” Shiro said as if he only just realized what they were supposed to be doing. “How does teaching a few classes sound?”

Keith looked out to Lance, showing off to the kids. “Isn't that his job?”

Shiro cleared his throat. “It's mine, actually. He just fills in when I can't. I've been looking for a second teacher. A few of my classes are getting hard to manage on my own.”

Keith thought a moment. “Are you sure? Wouldn't Lance be more qualified?”

A shout momentarily distracted them both. Out on the ice, Hunk had apparently tripped Lance, making all the kids laugh. He seemed apologetic though as he worried over Lance who was blushing terribly.

“Well,” Shiro said awkwardly. “Technically, yes? But in terms of your abilities I’d say you could give him a run for his money, judging by what I've seen.”

Keith looked genuinely surprised.

“I've only been in a few competitions myself, just local things in my home state. I'm definitely not Olympic material,” Keith admitted.

Shiro hummed in thought, then nodded his head as if he decided something. “That will work. I think you're the perfect fit for teaching the more advanced classes. But I want to start you off with the kids to see how you do.”

He pushed the paperwork towards Keith to let him sign it. It was hard to watch Keith when he was concentrating since he kept fiddling with his hair. Shiro tugged his beanie down lower over his ears, hoping they weren't as red as they felt.

After everything was complete, and Keith was put on the schedule, they put on their skates and joined Lance on the ice. The beginner class was coming to a close, and the kids were slowly losing interest. A few had taken to making mounds of ice from the loose shavings.

“Prince Keith!” Pidge called when she saw the two heading towards the class. She slowly wobbled to her feet, and Shiro hurried forward on instinct, worried she would fall.

Surprisingly, she maintained her balance. Her footwork was a little stiff, but that was normal for a first timer. She looked like a penguin as she waddled excitedly towards Keith.

“Hey,” Lance whined. “I'm not done teaching!”

Shiro put a hand on his shoulder, nodding towards the kids. “I think they're done learning, though.”

Lance sighed, noticing how the kids were more interested in playing with the ice rather than skating on it.

Keith stopped at Shiro’s side and watched Pidge as she struggled to skate towards him. Shiro was slightly amazed she was able to walk in skates at all.

“Push off from the ice, then let yourself slide forward,” Keith told Pidge. Shiro didn't expect her to understand that at all, but today was a day full of surprises apparently.

She looked down at her feet, then did exactly as Keith told her. Almost instantly she was skating smoothly, gliding on the ice like a natural. She threw her arms up in triumph. Shiro went wide eyed when he realized she didn't know how to stop.

Thankfully, Keith moved in front of her path, and she collided gently with his legs. She held onto his pants, wobbling from the sudden stop.

“Why can't you be my teacher, Prince Keith?” Pidge asked.

Keith looked from Shiro to the disgruntled Lance, before smiling awkwardly at Pidge.

“Actually, I am,” he told her. “Next time I'll be your teacher.”

Lance laughed harshly, startling Keith.

“Sorry kid,” Lance said with a smug tone. “ _I’m_ the new beginner teacher. _You_ don't even work here.”

“Yes I do,” Keith replied indignantly. “And I'm only teaching the beginners until Shiro thinks I'm ready to teach an advanced class.”

Lance’s jaw dropped. He turned to Shiro, gesturing wildly to Keith. “ _You hired him?!_ ”

Shiro shrugged nonchalantly. “Is there a problem, Lance?”

After a few more seconds of wild gesturing, Lance sighed. “No, sir. I guess not.”

“Prince Keith!” Matt came skating up to Keith, waving madly. “You're really gonna teach us?”

Shiro raised a brow at that. It was one thing for Pidge to call Keith “Prince,” but Matt too? That made him stop and remember something Keith had said earlier.

Keith looked hurriedly from Matt to Shiro, clearly nervous.

“Yeah,” Keith replied. “But you can just call me Keith. The title isn't really necessary.”

Matt frowned. “But you're the Prince of—”

“Oh, look!” Keith suddenly exclaimed. “Your mother is here!”

Matt whipped his head around to see his mom standing at the entrance to the rink. She waved at him. Pidge did her best to hobble and glide access the ice as her mother cheered her on.

Keith sighed as the two kids left him and the class ended. He helped clean up the cones with Lance, avoiding Shiro who had been staring holes into his back for the last twenty minutes.

“You know the Holt family?” Shiro asked once all the kids were gone. Keith visibly stiffened.

“Uh, no,” he replied. “Never met them before.”

Shiro eyed him curiously. “Right.”

“Anything I can do before the next class?” Keith asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“No,” Shiro said with a shake of his head. He wasn't through interrogating Keith just yet. “You can rest your _royal_ head for a bit while Hunk resurfaces the rink.”

Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair. Shiro grinned and waited patiently for Keith to speak.

Keith flopped against the low wall and pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie. “It's not like I'm hiding anything,” he started. “I just didn't expect to get a job and meet Takashi Shirogane all at the same time.”

Shiro nodded. “Go on.”

“Back home I competed a lot,” Keith admitted. “I also got into a lot of fights. People seemed to not like my attitude...or something.”

Shiro stepped off the ice, gesturing for Keith to follow. They sat down on one of the benches as Hunk brought out the Zamboni.

“It's kinda why I moved.” Keith shrugged. “Anyway, people made a lot of jokes about how _icy_ my heart was and blah blah blah. Long story short I got a dumb nickname and it just kinda stuck. I guess the Holt’s used to watch the junior competitions on tv.”

It was quiet between them for a moment, the only sound being the deep hum of the Zamboni. Keith picked absentmindedly at his gloves.

It had been a year since Shiro had been involved in competitions. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss it. A part of him wanted to continue his peaceful life in his rink. But another, louder part was straining for the thrills he missed.

“You still like to compete?” Shiro asked suddenly.

Keith gave him an odd look. “I haven't in awhile. But, yeah I do.”

Shiro slapped his shoulder. “Good! Then I'll be your coach.”

Keith was pushed forward by the hit.

“What?” He asked. “Coach for what?”

“You want to compete, don't you?” Shiro phrased it as a question but it didn't sound like he was giving Keith an option to say no.

“Of course,” Keith replied.

“Then I'll be your coach," Shiro repeated with a sly grin. “You cool with that?”

Keith blinked in surprise a moment, too stunned to reply.

Shiro watched Keith try to make up his mind, clearly not sure what to say. He had been looking for someone like Keith. He was honestly a perfect match for him. A good student he could push and shape.

“You can't be serious,” Keith said finally. “I'm not good enough for—”

Shiro held up a hand to stop him. “Don't ever say that. I’ve seen you skate. You can do this.”

Keith looked out at the ice, just as Hunk made his last round. The ice glistened with the fresh layer of water, the lights bouncing off the surface in a bright display. He bit his lip, then looked back to Shiro who was now standing up at his side.

“When do we start, coach?” Keith asked, cheeks bright from the cold.

Shiro smiled so big his face hurt. “I'll close the rink early. I’ve got a lot to teach you.”

\---

Shiro swallowed a lump in his throat when he looked at Keith’s hips. His sweatpants were more tight than they were loose, and the gentle curve from his waist to his thighs was too much for him to bear. He stopped less than a foot behind Keith, staring blatantly at his ass.

“Uh, Shiro?” Keith called to him over his shoulder. “You were saying?”

“Oh right, I was saying… Um,” Shiro dragged his eyes up to the back of Keith’s head. “What was I saying?”

Keith turned to look up at him, giving him a confused look. “You said my posture was weak and told me turn around. Then you kinda just,” Keith made a wiggling motion with his fingers, “stopped talking.”

Shiro shook his head, trying to get rid of the mental image of Keith’s backside. “Yes, your posture. It could use some work.”

Seemingly satisfied by the response, Keith turned around so his back was to Shiro.

After a steadying breath, Shiro placed his hands on Keith's hips. Keith didn't seem to mind, in fact he didn't react at all.

“Okay,” Shiro said. “You tend to slouch a bit. Probably just a bad habit, but I want to make sure you can hold a proper posture while you move.”

“Alright,” Keith responded. “So what should I do?”

“Just,” Shiro forced his eyes to the roof, “stand still a moment. Give me your best posture.”

Keith did as he was told, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. Shiro looked back down to Keith, noting the height change when he wasn't slouching.

Gently, Shiro removed one of his hands from his firm hips, and dragged it up his spine. He gripped his left shoulder, forced him to relax a bit, then nodded in approval.

“Good,” Shiro’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat to try and cover up the embarrassing noise. “Now hold that and skate a lap around the rink.”

Shiro was more than glad to be away from Keith. He watched him carefully, keeping his keen eyes on his shoulders and spine. Keith was able to hold the position all the way around the rink.

“How did that feel?” Shiro asked once Keith made it back to him.

“A little difficult,” he admitted. “I guess I'm out of practice.”

“Most likely,” Shiro agreed. “But before you know it, that posture will be second nature to you. You have any questions before we start?”

Keith looked away shyly. “Actually, I think I don't get my leg high enough in my camel spins.”

“Want me to look at your form?” Shiro asked, silently hopeful.

“Please?” Keith’s tongue darted out to lick at his chapped lips.

“Get into the position,” Shiro directed. When Keith turned his back to him Shiro slapped a hand over his face at his own words.

Keith lifted up his back leg, and Shiro grabbed his arm to steady him. Keith kept lifting his back leg just until it reached even with his hips, torso forced forward to keep his balance.

He held onto Shiro, face turned away. When he stopped moving, Shiro looked over his body.

“You need to lift your extended leg higher,” Shiro said. “Your knee has to be higher than your hip.”

“How much higher?” Keith asked. “Can you show me?”

Shiro cursed silently to himself. He reached out with the hand not supporting Keith, and slid his fingers around his extended thigh. He lifted it up gently and Keith’s leg easily moved with his guidance.

“About here should be good,” Shiro said shakily.

Keith looked over his shoulder at his leg. “Oh okay, I get it now.”

“G-good!” Shiro stammered. “It doesn't feel uncomfortable, does it?”

Keith shook his head, gripping Shiro’s arm tighter. “I can actually do the splits so it's fine.”

“Really?” Shiro asked, still holding Keith’s thigh. “Then the camel spin should be easy for you.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I guess you're right.”

After a moment, Keith pulled his leg down and stood up straight. Shiro stepped away awkwardly, giving him more space.

“Thanks for the tip,” Keith wiped his arm across his forehead to get rid of the sweat, “that's the only question I had.”

“Oh,” Shiro said simply. “No problem. Guess we should get started with the rest of your lesson.”

“More posture practice?” Keith asked.

“I figured you can get that on your own now.” Shiro shrugged. “I was going to drill a few basics with you to be safe, actually.”

Keith’s face fell. “Okay, that's cool too.”

Shiro was relieved that Keith didn't press him further. There was only so much his heart could take. Any longer holding on to any part of Keith, Shiro might just spontaneously combust right there on the ice.

“Well,” Shiro said, hands on his hips. “How about some speed drills?”

Keith brightened immensely. Without another word he was off, zooming across the ice.

Shiro sighed.

“He is going to be the death of me.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter coming at you~

Keith’s unusual grace on the ice was a farce. Once he hung up his skates and put his feet on solid ground, he was a mess. Slow, methodical, and quiet were his more outstanding traits. Honestly, Shiro found it endearing. 

Lance did not.

“Oh, c’mon dude!” Lance complained, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How long does it take to change clothes?”

Shiro peeked around the edge of the lockers, catching a glimpse of Lance in nothing but a towel, tapping his foot impatiently outside the only shower stall.

Angrily, Keith threw open the door and stepped out in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. His wet hair was dripping onto his white shirt. With a huff, he tossed his towel around his neck and pushed past Lance.

“Finally!” Lance closed himself into the stall and turned on the water. “You better not have taken all the hot— _ fuck that's cold!” _

Shiro saw Keith grin.

He rolled his eyes, but froze up when Keith looked his way. Shiro smiled and waved and Keith returned the gesture. Then Keith quickly ducked his head and left the locker room.

Shiro threw a towel over his shoulder and followed him out.

“Hey, Keith!” Shiro called just as Keith reached the front door.

He stopped, looking back to Shiro.

“Um, you don't have to,” Shiro said awkwardly, “but we usually go out for drinks on Saturday nights. Would you like to come?”

Keith stared at him a moment. “I don’t know...”

“Ah,” Shiro replied, blushing. “You don't have to drink with us. We just like to talk and wind down after the work day, is all. Or it could be just the two of us if crowds make you uncomfortable, or something.”

Shiro made a mental note to hate himself later.

“That's okay,” Keith said with a shake of his head. “I don't want to be the reason you miss your time with your friends. See you next week?”

The knot that had been forming in Shiro's gut suddenly released, and it felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out. He tried not to think how that sounded like a rejection before he could even properly ask Keith to hang out with him.

“Right,” Shiro said weakly. “Sure thing! Your real first day is Monday, don't forget.”

Keith nodded then he walked out the door.

If the earth opened up beneath his feet and swallowed him whole right then, Shiro might have just accepted it. He groaned in frustration.

“Man, you got it bad,” Lance said with a laugh.

Shiro whipped around, sending him a harsh glare. He tried to think of something to say back, something witty or to at least deny what Lance was claiming. But anything he could think of sounded fake.

“Weren’t you taking a shower?” Shiro attempted to derail the conversation.

“Short, dark, and snarky stole all the hot water,” Lance chided. “But don’t avoid the topic, boss man.”

Shiro groaned. “I don’t— am I that obvious?”

“Don't worry, my hopeless romantic of a friend,” Lance grinned and slung an arm over Shiro’s hunched shoulders, “Hunk and I will help you drown your troubles in rum.”

“This sounds like a bad time,” Shiro said with a frown.

“Trust me,” Lance sang, as he flipped off the lights to the rink. “This little crush will pass. One round of shots and you’ll be saying,  _ Keith who?” _

\---

“If he says Keith’s name,  _ one more time,”  _ Lance growled over the top of his beer.

Hunk put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You know Shiro gets emotional when he's drunk. Let him get the new guy out of his system.”

Lance gave him a disgusted look. Hunk smacked the side of his head.

“Not like that!” Hunk rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Lance rubbed his head and looked back to Shiro, who was staring blankly at his empty glass.

“You think Keith is into guys?” Shiro asked, voice soft. “Like,  _ really _ into guys? Or just...kinda into guys.”

Lance started to stand up, ready to throttle Shiro, when Hunk spoke.

“He said you were cute, right?” Hunk replied. “You told us that.”

Shiro smiled lazily. “Yeah…”

Lance made a gagging sound.

“Then he's at least kinda into guys,” Hunk reasoned. “You've only just met, so give it time.”

Shiro sighed, letting his head drop to the table.

“Why do I do this to myself,” Shiro groaned. “Cute guy gives me attention and I automatically start planning a wedding in my head.”

The restaurant they were in was fairly quiet for a Saturday night. Their waitress had been avoiding the table for a good thirty minutes. Shiro assumed it was his fault.

“You're clearly not as drunk as you're acting,” Lance said. “But do you need a ride home? We can come back for your bike tomorrow.”

Shiro nodded, face still planted on the table. Lance was able to summon the waitress finally, and when she arrived she gave Shiro a wide girth. Hunk helped Shiro hobble out to Lance’s car, carefully laying him out in the backseat.

“Thanks guys,” Shiro mumbled, face flushed. He looked up to see the roof of Lance’s Acura, and was disturbed to find that it was spinning. “We should drive fast.”

“Oh no you don't!” Lance warned from the driver's seat. He eyed Shiro through the rearview mirror. “You vomit, you clean it.”

Shiro clamped his eyes shut, hoping that would stop the waves of nausea. It hardly helped.

Thankfully, his apartment wasn't far and after a rocky climb up the stairs with Hunk and Lance’s guidance, they laid him on his bed. The room was spinning again, so he barely registered that his friends were even still there.

“He had like five beers and three shots,” Lance said. His voice sounded like he was underwater to Shiro.

“We should stay,” Hunk said, worriedly. “What if he gets sick?”

Shiro stuck out his hand, trying to tell them he was fine, but it must have looked like a cry for help because Lance and Hunk were at his side immediately.

“Hey, buddy,” Lance said, hovering closely over Shiro. “You okay?”

“S’fine, guys,” Shiro breathed. “Go on home, m’kay?”

“Yep, we’re staying,” Lance confirmed. “I'll go buy meds for Mr. Selfless.”

“Ooh!” Hunk exclaimed. “I call dibs on snacks and making the pallets.”

Shiro could barely understand what they were talking about. His mind was foggy and nothing would stay still like it was supposed to, and with sleep tugging at his consciousness, he wasn't very coherent.

The last thing he remembered was Lance setting a bottle of water and a trashcan next to him. Then the lights went out and so did Shiro.

On Monday morning, Shiro still had a headache.

After waking up on Sunday and finding Lance and Hunk curled up in his floor, it had been downhill from there. He didn't usually drink and, despite his size, he was a lightweight. He wasn't sure what he would've done if he hadn't had his friends.

He slept through most of Sunday and banked on being nice and refreshed for work on Monday. He was very wrong.

“Good morning, Shi—” Keith froze at the entrance to Shiro’s office. Shiro looked up at him over the rim of his coffee mug.

“Mornin’,” Shiro replied dully.

Keith stepped into his office tentatively. “Are you...alright?”

Shiro knocked back the rest of his coffee.

“I'll take that as a no,” Keith said. He picked up his name tag from the employee items bin. “You look like you're hungover.”

“I’m not,” Shiro snapped. “I would never drink when I have to teach kids the next day. That would be awful.”

“I didn't think you were actually hungover,” Keith replied defensively.

Shiro sighed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to gripe at you. It's not your fault I make poor life choices.”

“It’s cool.” Keith sat on the edge of his desk, casually looking Shiro over. “How was Saturday night?”

Shiro cringed. “Fantastic.”

Keith laughed, eyes crinkling in a way Shiro found to be insanely cute. “I assume you drank a lot, so what kind of drunk are you?”

Shiro leaned back in his chair, mood brightening immensely. He wasn't sure if it was the coffee kicking in or Keith perched on the edge of his desk, laughing his way under his skin, but he could feel his energy spiking.

“You'll have to join us sometime if you want that information,” Shiro teased.

Keith hummed, grinning devilishly. “Or I could just ask Lance. I'm sure his big mouth is dying to tell me what I want to know.”

Shiro paled. Lance really would spill the beans if Keith bent his arm enough. He loved messing with people and would jump at the opportunity to stir the pot between Keith and Shiro.

“Sappy,” Shiro replied quickly. Keith looked surprised. “I just act really nice towards everyone.”

Keith seemed like he didn't know what to do with the information. “You're already really nice. How could you possibly get more nice?”

Shiro blushed, falling silent from the compliment. He didn't want to tell Keith that by “sappy” he meant he was a flirtatious drunk. Lance would most definitely rat him out if Keith asked.

“It's time for your class,” Shiro said quietly, pointing towards the clock on the wall.

“Shit.” Keith hopped off of Shiro’s desk. He started to leave, but then stopped at the door. “So, when's my next lesson?”

Shiro glanced down to his class schedule, searching for the next possible time to squeeze in being alone with Keith. It was a full day.  “Are you free tonight after we close?”

“Yes,” Keith replied quickly. “I mean, if you don’t mind staying late.”

Shiro laughed. “I'm the one who suggested it. Of course I don't mind.”

Keith nodded once then was out the door. With a sigh, Shiro leaned back into his chair. His eyes had only closed for a few minutes when a tap to his nose jostled him awake.

“Rise and shine, boss man.” Lance leaned over Shiro’s desk, inches from his face.

Shiro jumped, pushing away from his desk, and slapped a hand to his chest. “Lance, please don't do that! I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Lance snorted. “Your life? Or your imaginary one with mullet boy?”

“Stop,” Shiro said with a roll of his eyes. “How long was I out?”

A colorful flyer was slapped down onto Shiro’s desk. Lance shrugged and pushed it towards him.

“Who knows,” he replied nonchalantly. “But look at this!”

The flyer pictured a young woman, poised beautifully at the end of a figure skating performance. Around her the text read “ _ STARS ON ICE PERFORMANCE CALL”  _ and “ _ Do you have what it takes to perform with the best?” _

“What is this?” Shiro eyed it warily.

“Destiny,” Lance explained with a grin. Then he added, “it was in the mail,” when Shiro gave him a warning look.

Shiro picked it up, reading over the fine print. “This is a weird way to scout skaters for a show.”

Lance shrugged, clearly not sharing the sentiment. “Maybe. But I heard from a friend of a friend that a few well known sponsors would be attending.”

Shiro raised a brow at that, slightly intrigued. “And you're telling me this because…?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Enter your  _ boyfriend _ in it and go as his coach, duh!”

“He's not my boyfriend!” Shiro blushed.

“Yet,” Lance deadpanned. “Look, the point is, you've been itching to get back into competing for  _ months _ and this is a good way to ease Keith into it.”

Shiro sat back, a smile tugging at his lips. “Wow Lance, this is actually really sweet of you. Who knew you could be so considerate.”

“Don't you use that nice voice to say such sarcastic things!” Lance wagged an accusatory finger at him. “And I'm plenty nice. All the time!”

Shiro laughed and thought back to Saturday night. “You're right. You're a good friend, Lance.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Don't think I'm doing this ‘cause I want mullet boy to go far in life, or whatever. This is for you, man.”

“Thank you,” Shiro stood up from his desk, “I mean it.”

Lance sighed. “Yeah whatever. Just go tell your boyfriend the good news.”

Shiro ignored the “boyfriend” comment that time.

Out on the rink, the kids were skating back and forth between cones, practicing turns. Keith was observing them quietly, only speaking to make a correction or encourage one of them.

Pidge was squatting next to Keith’s legs, one hand gripping at his ankle. She was absentmindedly playing with the ice, head tucked between her knees.

Shiro walked around the edge of the rink, coming to a stop behind Keith in the stands.

“That was great, Matt!” Keith called to him just as he turned around the farthest cone. “Keep it up, alright?”

Matt beamed at Keith as he skated back to the starting point, passing a few classmates on the way. Keith looked down at Pidge, not having noticed Shiro standing behind him yet, then squatted down next to her.

“Do you want to try again?” He asked her gently. She shook her head.

Keith reached out and scooped up some ice shavings, then added it to Pidge’s growing pile at her feet. She copied him, using her skate to make more.

“Will you hold my hand?” Pidge asked him suddenly. Keith looked slightly alarmed, but then quickly schooled his expression in front of Pidge.

“Okay,” he replied simply. She reached out and placed her small hand into his gloved one. When he stood back up, she followed.

“We can skate now,” she decided.

Shiro leaned onto the low wall, smiling gently at Keith. Pidge led Keith by the hand, taking the same route as her classmates to practice her turns. Shiro was feeling more and more confident about his choice to make Keith a teacher.

When they turned at the farthest cone and began their return, Keith spotted Shiro. Their eyes met and Shiro couldn’t bring himself to look away. Keith held his gaze all the way back to where he started, then sharply looked down at the ice. The tips of his ears and nose were bright red.

Keith finished the class and released the kids to wait in the front entrance for their parents. When the rink was empty, he skated to Shiro.

“Hey,” Keith greeted him.

“Hey there,” Shiro replied simply. “How are you?”

Keith shrugged, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater. “Good. A little cold.”

Without even thinking about it, Shiro removed his jacket, then placed it over Keith’s shoulders. It was way too big for him.

“It’s not the warmest thing,” Shiro explained. “But you can wear it since you’ll be on the ice for a while.”

Keith slipped his arms into the jacket, noting how his hands didn’t reach the cuffs. Shiro felt his heart clench.

“Wow, you look cute,” Shiro admitted quietly. When Keith turned to him, he realized he’d said it out loud. “Uhh, I mean, you’re small and my jacket really isn’t so—”

“Thanks,” Keith mumbled, a smile forming on his lips.

“Uh, here,” Shiro quickly handed him the flyer to change the topic.

Keith took it and then gave Shiro a confused look when he was done reading.

“You should enter,” Shiro suggested. “If you want, I mean. I would coach you. For free, of course.”

Keith went wide-eyed. “I don’t know what to say…”

“Say yes?” Shiro smiled, trying to sound hopeful.

Finally, Keith handed back the flyer. “Well, I already said I don’t think I can say no to you.”

As much as that made Shiro’s heart swell, he also wanted to make sure Keith wanted this as well. “You can tell me no. I don’t bite.”

Keith laughed and shook his head. “I want to do this.”

“Me too,” Shiro replied.

\---

“Head up, Keith!” Shiro called from across the ice. “A little more!”

Keith complied, relaxing his shoulders and bringing up his chin. He was on his fifth lap around the rink, going into various spins and jumps at Shiro’s request. Shiro wanted him to get used to the feeling of combination moves again. Back to back jumps and spins could tire out an inexperienced or out of practice skater quickly.

When he passed Shiro on his sixth lap, he called for Keith to stop.

“Do you feel loosened up?” Shiro asked, placing a hand to Keith’s shoulder. Keith glanced at it.

“Yeah,” he huffed.

Then he took a step forward, but his skate caught in a chip in the ice. Shiro reflexively caught him, somehow maintaining his balance in skates. Keith gripped at Shiro’s biceps with his head against his chest. Shiro felt his heart skip and didn’t dare move his hands from where they were placed on Keith’s back. After a few seconds, Keith jerked back mumbling an apology.

“It’s fine,” Shiro said awkwardly. “Should probably get this spot fixed before someone gets hurt.”

“It’s not all that bad,” Keith replied, toeing at the knick in the ice. “Besides, you caught me so no harm done.”

“Right,” Shiro agreed. “Ready to work out your program?”

Keith seemed upset then, but agreed quickly when Shiro noted his posture needed more work.

The rest of the week practically flew by for Shiro. Keith came in on time every day, and stayed late for his private lessons. Lance grumbled a lot but relented when Shiro promised to let him teach the beginners when Keith was ready to move on to teaching the advanced classes. More than one parent started turning into helicopters, wanting to hover in the stands and distract their child from Keith. On Saturday, Shiro really needed a break.

“You going out with the guys tonight?” Keith asked Shiro in the locker room after work.

Shiro closed his locker, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Lance and Hunk decided to stay in, so I was just gonna grab some food on my own.”

“They live together?” Keith slipped on his shoes, peeking up at Shiro from under the towel draped over his head.

“Yep.” Shiro smirked. “They’re roommates.”

Keith nodded, then tossed his towel into his bag. “I haven’t eaten yet, actually.”

Shiro knew that. Keith had been at work all day with him, then in a lesson for the last hour. He could only think of one reason why Keith would mention that.

“Do you wanna get something with me?” Shiro offered.

Keith adjusted his bag on his shoulder. “I’d like that, I think.”

Shiro beamed. “We can take my bike, then come back for your car. Or I can take you home.”

“You drive a motorcycle?” Keith asked, taken aback. “I mean, of course you do.”

Shiro raised a brow at that and led them towards the parking lot. “Care to explain what that means?”

Keith just shrugged as they left the building and Shiro locked the doors behind them.

“You just look like you would drive one, is all,” Keith explained.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Shiro chuckled. Keith avoided his eyes.

When they reached his bike, Shiro noticed there were no other cars in the employee parking lot. Since Keith usually left before he did, he never even thought about how the parking lot was always empty when he left.

“You don’t drive here?” Shiro asked as he dug in his pocket for his keys.

“Ah,” Keith bit his lip, “no, I live close actually so I just walk.”

Shiro picked up the helmet off the handles, then threw a leg over his bike. Keith stood there a moment before sliding onto the seat behind Shiro. He noted Keith’s toes were all that could reach the ground.

“Here,” Shiro turned slightly in the seat, then handed Keith the helmet, “it’s the only one so you should wear it.”

Keith accepted it without a word. He pulled it on then flipped up the visor so he could see better. When Shiro started up his bike, revving the engine a bit, Keith awkwardly placed his hands on Shiro’s hips.

“You’ll wanna hold on a bit tighter than that,” Shiro warned. As much as Shiro wanted to be held by Keith, he also was concerned for his safety. When Keith slipped his hands around his waist, front pressed to Shiro’s back, Shiro started to sweat.

“Is this alright?” Keith asked, voice muffled by the hemet.

“Its perfect.” Shiro swallowed heavily.

The drive to the usual restaurant felt twice as long with Keith’s warmth at his back and his hands around his waist. He almost didn’t notice when the light turned green because Keith’s knees were rubbing against his hips.

When they arrived, Keith didn’t jump off immediately like Shiro had anticipated. He sat on his bike a minute, wondering when Keith would let him go. Shiro didn’t want to tell him to get off. He really didn’t.

“We’re here,” Shiro called over his shoulder as he turned this bike off.

Keith slowly sat up, dragging his hands along Shiro’s abdomen as he did. He hopped off before Shiro and took off the helmet. When he ruffled his hair, Shiro couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Keith grumbled.

“Helmets are not kind to you,” Shiro teased. Keith frowned.

“Shut up,” he said as he tossed the helmet to Shiro.

He caught it, and laughed again at the pout on Keith’s face as he fiddled with his hair.

“Here, let me help,” Shiro said as he stood off the bike. He reached out and ran his hand through Keith’s hair. It was just as soft and silky as he imagined it to be. He smelled like apples and that made Shiro’s stomach flip. Keith didn’t object as Shiro brushed the hair from his face, dragging his fingers over the flyaway strands.

“I’ll just pull it up,” Keith suggested after a moment. Shiro dropped his hand, fingers tingling. Keith reached into his jacket pocket, only to realize it wasn’t his. He still had Shiro’s jacket.

“Oh,” Keith said, surprised. Then he fished into his own pants pocket, pulling out a tie then putting his hair up in a small ponytail.

“You can keep wearing it,” Shiro shrugged, “I don’t need it back right now.”

Keith tugged at the sleeves as they made their way into the restaurant.

Thankfully, the waitress who Shiro had seemingly frightened wasn’t there that night. They got a quiet table at the back and before long Keith gone through several drinks on his own.

“How are you not even slightly buzzed?” Shiro asked, frowning over his empty plate where a hamburger had once been. He had called it quits on the alcohol, knowing he had to drive them both afterwards. Keith, on the other hand, was halfway through his third beer.

Keith shrugged. “Maybe cause I can actually hold my alcohol?”

“Very funny,” Shiro replied. “I can’t help it if my body hates me.”

“Well, I don’t,” Keith grinned over the top of his glass. “Be nice to your body. It’s a good one.”

Shiro waited for Keith to realize what he’d said or to try and take it back, but he might have been slightly more inebriated than he was letting on. Shiro wished he knew if Keith was into guys. Then at least he could freely hit on him without feeling bad.

Keith downed the rest of his drink, then sat back into his chair, staring at Shiro.

“Why’d you pick me?” Keith asked, voice heavy from the alcohol.

“Pick you?” Shiro asked.

“You could probably get any great skater to coach,” Keith leaned onto the table, arms folded on its surface, “but we meet one time and you want to coach me. You’re Takashi Shirogane, for crying out loud. Olympic gold medalist and world famous in figure skating. And I’m…”

Keith trailed off, looking down at his fries still sitting on his plate.

“You’re amazing,” Shiro finished for him. Keith snapped his head up, cheeks red from the beer. “You’ve got a lot of natural talent and honed skill for someone who’s never had a proper coach, for one thing. You move like you were born to skate, like the ice is a part of you. I’ve never seen someone’s eyes light up as much as yours do when you enter the rink.”

Shiro paused a moment when the waitress came back, refilling Keith’s beer and giving Shiro more water. Keith stared at the beer a moment before taking a large gulp.

“Shall I continue?” Shiro asked. Keith looked away and shook his head.

“It’s not the rink,” Keith said. Shiro waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t he spoke.

“What’s not the rink?” Shiro tried to prod him into talking. Keith shook his head again, then took another drink.

“Nothing,” he said. “Sorry, I’ve had a bit too much to drink, I guess.”

Shiro leaned towards Keith, looking into his purple eyes. They only looked slightly glazed over.

“Would you like to leave?” Shiro offered.

“No!” Keith exclaimed. The people at the next table over gave him weird looks. “Ah, I mean, I’m fine. I’m enjoying this.”

Shiro reached across the table, taking Keith’s half empty glass from him. He only protested weaky. With a grin, Shiro tipped it back and finished it off.

“Hey!” Keith laughed. “What happened to not drinking?”

Shiro put the empty glass down, feeling the familiar warmth in his stomach. “One and half beers won’t make me tipsy. Besides, I ate that entire hamburger and fries. I’ll be fine, but you’ve had enough.”

Keith grumbled, tossing a wadded up napkin at Shiro. “Whatever, nerd.”

“Ouch,” Shiro grinned, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell me how you really feel, why don’t you.”

Keith looked at him a moment, eyes roaming over Shiro’s face. Shiro picked up his glass, feeling suddenly parched.

“I’m drunk,” Keith said. “So maybe it’s the alcohol, but have your eyes always been that pretty?”

Shiro choked on his water.

“My eyes?” He sputtered.

Keith nodded and leaned further over the small table. “What color are they? Grey?”

Shiro could smell the alcohol on his breath, but it was the opposite of repulsive. He leaned in towards Keith on instinct, stomach in knots.

“Yeah,” Shiro responded. “Just grey. Nothing special.”

Keith looked at him a moment longer, eyes momentarily darting to Shiro’s mouth, before flopping back into his chair.

“I should probably go home,” Keith commented. “It’s late.”

“Of course,” Shiro leaned back as well, “I’ll get the check.”

Shiro drove slower on the way back towards the rink. Keith was still holding on just fine but he was constantly worried he might lose his grip at any moment. When they got close to the rink, Keith lazily told him the directions to his place.

Shiro pulled up to a small, rundown apartment complex at the edge of town, and let Keith off. He turned off his bike, and when he stood up Keith looked at him funny.

“I just want to walk you to your door,” Shiro said. “You’re pretty tipsy.”

“Oh,” Keith said, face downcast. “Okay, thanks.”

Shiro walked a few paces behind him, following him to his first floor apartment. Keith fumbled for his keys, and when he failed a third time to get them in the lock, Shiro put his hand over Keith’s shaky one.

Keith froze a moment, but Shiro was guiding his hand, helping him unlock his door. When it was unlocked, and cracked open, Keith turned around.

“Can we do this again?” Keith asked, words starting to slur.

“Get dinner?” Shiro asked. “Sure, we go out every Saturday so you’re more than welcome—”

“No,” Keith closed his eyes a moment, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I mean, just us.”

Shiro looked down at Keith who was still draped in his large jacket. Keith licked his lips, making them more chapped than they already were.

“Just us?” Shiro pushed. “I don’t want to get the wrong idea here, but it sounds like you’re asking me on a date.”

Keith toed at the ground. “Nevermind, I’m drunk and—”

He turned to leave but Shiro blocked his way with his arm, putting his hand on the doorframe.

“Ask me again,” Shiro said gently, heart beating ecstatically. “When you’re sober, ask me again.”

Keith stopped and turned his face away from him. “Goodnight, Shiro. I had fun.”

With that, he ducked under Shiro’s arm and went into his apartment. When the door shut, Shiro let his head hit the doorframe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna ask a question about the fic? Or just straight up chat about the joys of Voltron?   
> My askbox on [Tumblr](http://sariahhime.tumblr.com/) is always open~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE* PEOPLE HAVE MADE THINGS FOR MY FIC AND I'M VERY EMOTIONAL  
> Please check out THIS gorgeous art by Yokija on tumblr! Plus THIS cute and funny rendition of a scene from chapter one by Mishydraws! Not to mention the amazing playlist Shangheists made for this fic!  
> Thank you for all of your support and thank you shangheists for putting up with me screaming about Keith.
> 
> EDIT: Seems my links wont work and idk why but here are the individual URLs  
> https://yokija.tumblr.com/post/149561231071/quick-draw-for-the-weekend-morning-ill-add-a  
> http://mishydraws.tumblr.com/post/150005619950/inspired-from-the-ice-prince-by-sariahhime-keith  
> http://8tracks.com/shangheists/the-ice-prince

There was something soothing about the ice rink at sunrise. Shiro could never quite figure out why, but it was the sole reason he got up early every day. The hum of the lights as they flickered on, the orange glow of the sky peeking through the high windows, and the gentle quiet of the empty rink were his favorite things. He loved being able to hit the ice before everyone else. The smooth rink was calling out to him and he relished at the thought of being able to mar its surface with his skates.

He sat his bag down on a bleacher, did his stretches, then quickly stepped out onto the ice. He couldn’t help but grin at the sound of his skates scraping up the ice. The chill from its surface hit him hard, cooling his fingers and toes. With a deep breath, he pushed off, relaxing as the air hit him like a gust of wind. He felt at home.

This was a routine. Every day he arrived early to remind himself of who he was. Just Shiro, just a skater. He knew he was in love with the ice, in love with the feeling of performing and winning. But _this_ was what he truly wanted. A rink, some skates, and the cold air biting at his nose and ears.

Sometimes he missed his past and the life he’d lived before. At times it was a near physical ache in his chest. But then in the early dawn, just as the light breached the navy sky, he remembered. Nothing was more important to him than this.

Shiro lazily circled the rink, slowly gaining speed. When he hit the right pace, he performed a toe loop. His legs easily complied. His muscles remembered his last program more than his mind did. He moved through the motions and danced across the ice. When he pulled off the triple Axel, his heartbeat sped up.

Just as he turned back, he saw someone at the entrance.

“Keith?” Shiro huffed, checking his watch for the time.

Keith shuffled awkwardly at the front. Shiro skated towards him, coming to a halt on the ice a few feet away.

“You’re early.” Shiro smiled. Then he remembered what happened between them two nights ago. “Uh, what’s up?”’

“I’ve never,” Keith glanced away, “seen you skate before. This closely, I mean.”

“Oh,” Shiro breathed. When Keith continued to avert his eyes, Shiro became worried. “Everything okay?”

Honestly, Shiro’s worst fear was that Keith would take back everything he’d said Saturday night. He wouldn’t know what to do if Keith laughed it off or, worse yet, made fun of him. He’d basically told Keith that he could ask him out. The cold of the rink wasn’t enough to stop the heat from rising to his face.

“I’m really sorry about Saturday,” Keith admitted. “I don’t usually drink that much and then you had to take me home.”

Shiro shrugged, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “It was fine, really. I wouldn’t mind taking you home every day if you wanted.”

Keith shook his head, eyes going wide. “No, that’s okay. I can get home on my own.”

Shiro’s stomach twisted further. One simple statement from Keith and he started to feel he’d misread him. He thought that maybe the comment about his eyes being pretty really was just from Keith’s drunken state.

“Hey,” Keith continued. “Did I...say anything?”

“What do you mean?” Shiro swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It’s just,” Keith but his lip, “I don’t remember much after we left the restaurant. It’s all a blur. But I have this mental image of you standing outside my door. And I know I have a tendency to say weird shit when I’m drunk.”

The knot in Shiro’s stomach gave out.

“Oh,” Shiro said, shoulders falling. When Keith looked at him, Shiro did his best to smile. “No, man. You just mumbled about wanting to get some sleep. Nothing weird.”

Keith sighed, clearly relieved. “Oh thank god. I’ve been stressing all weekend wondering if my old habit had slipped out.”

Shiro chuckled. “You could always text me instead of waiting to ask stuff on Monday.”

Shiro stepped off the ice, then slipped on his skate guards. With the skates, his height was even more exaggerated. Keith stepped back to look Shiro in the eye.

“I don’t have your number,” he said flatly.

With a grin Shiro pulled out his cellphone. “Enter your number, then I’ll send you a text.”

Keith did as he was told and gave it back with a pout. Shiro sent him a quick text that read _“Hello <3.” _

“Check your phone, please,” Shiro prodded him gently. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Only because you asked nicely,” Keith said. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, then opened the text. “You really are sappy. I’m saving your name like that in my phone so I’ll never forget how _mushy_ you really are.”

Shiro laughed, feeling a little better. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Keith snorted. “Nah, I'm slowly learning you're just naturally flirtatious with everyone.”

As soon as the words left Keith’s mouth, he froze, jaw slightly open. Shiro had been about to correct him, to tell Keith up front he was the only one he flirted with. But then the look on Keith’s face gave him pause.

“Keith?” Shiro asked.

Keith's jaw snapped shut, then he looked up, appearing slightly confused. “Uh sorry, it's nothing. I just remembered I left my locker open. Be right back.”

Then Keith turned, leaving a very baffled Shiro alone on the ice.

The rest of the day was as awkward as Shiro had expected it to be. Granted, he'd assumed it would be awkward for an entirely different reason, but the result was the same. Keith avoided him as much as possible, only interacting when he absolutely had to. The entire thing was putting Shiro on edge.

At the end of the day, his fears were confirmed. Shiro had retreated to his office to get some work done, and had almost forgotten to eat when Lance popped into his office.

“Boss man!” Lance called, brandishing a container full of food. “Hunk has extra taquitos, want one?”

Shiro looked up from the entry paperwork he was filling out for Keith to enter the show. He eyed the plastic container hungrily.

“Have you asked Keith too?” Shiro questioned. “He’s been working hard today, he could use a break.”

Lance made a face, but then sighed. “Alright. I'll ask him.”

Before he left, he tossed a taquito onto Shiro’s desk. He stepped out the door with a wink. Shiro laughed under his breath.

He resumed his work, slowly munching on the taquito, failing at not being distracted. He had been trying to ignore the nagging sense that something was wrong, when Lance was suddenly standing before him again.

“Did you find—”

“Mr. Sourpuss,” Lance growled, “would like me to tell you he won't be at practice tonight.”

Shiro dropped his taquito.

Lance looked at the half eaten thing, clearly appalled. “Don't waste Hunk’s cooking!”

“What do you mean, he won't be at practice?” Shiro ignored Lance’s frantic attempts to salvage the taquito.

“I don't know, man!” Lance snatched the food item from the desk, holding onto it like it was precious to him. “Don't make me some middle man, ask him yourself!”

Shiro stood from his desk and marched right past Lance. It was only a few minutes before closing and the start of Shiro and Keith’s agreed practice time. Normally he wouldn’t raise such a fuss for Keith missing just one day. But today had been really weird from the beginning and with the show less than a month away, their time was too valuable.

The rink was empty, save for Hunk resurfacing it, and the shop had already been locked up. When he entered the locker room, he heard the shower running. As gently as possible, he knocked on the stall door.

“I told you, Lance,” Keith griped as he turned off the water. He pulled his towel down from over the door. “I don't want a—”

He stepped out, dripping wet with a towel around his waist. Shiro averted his eyes. When Keith saw Shiro standing there, his tough demeanor evaporated.

“O-oh,” Keith mumbled. He gripped his towel tighter. “Sorry, I thought…”

“Yeah, I know,” Shiro replied. He struggled to think of the best thing to say. If Keith had a prior commitment, then there was nothing Shiro could do about that. But if he was still avoiding him…

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked. “Lance said you wouldn't be at practice tonight.”

Keith sighed, stepping away from Shiro. He eyed the space behind him, glancing longingly at the lockers.

“Yeah,” Keith stepped around him, “just forgot about this thing at home, no big deal.”

Shiro let him pass, aware of the odd tension. Keith disappeared behind a row of lockers. After a few minutes he emerged fully dressed.

Shiro was still standing by the shower, fighting between calling Keith out on his blatant lie or just letting him go.

“I'll be at practice tomorrow,” Keith said as he headed for the door. “I promise this won't happen again.”

His formal tone really threw Shiro off, seeing as how they'd spent a night drinking together and Keith had been more than causal then. Shiro bit his tongue as the door to the locker room fell shut and then he was alone.

\---

“I fucked up,” Shiro whined and flopped back onto his couch.

Lance sat down a glass of water on the low coffee table before taking the other spot on the couch. Hunk was occupying Shiro’s kitchen, making dinner.

“Is this about how Keith took off like a frightened cat after work?” Lance asked.

Shiro groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Hunk called from the kitchen. “Cheese or no cheese?”

Lance frowned. “Dude. Always cheese.”

“Roger!” Hunk smiled, then added a copious amount of shredded cheese to the frying pan.

“So,” Lance turned back to Shiro. “Is that it? What did you do?”

Shiro shrugged. “One minute he's cracking jokes and I'm getting his phone number, then the next he freezes up and then avoids me all day.”

Lance hummed in thought a moment. “Have you ever thoughts of… _oh, I don't know_ , asking him?”

Shiro gave him a dirty look. “It's not that easy.”

A slam from the kitchen made them both jump. Hunk had slapped the spatula onto the countertop.

“That's the worst excuse I've ever heard,” he snapped. “Do you know how many relationships fail from miscommunication?”

Shiro glanced at Lance who was suddenly very quiet.

“Tell him, Lance,” Hunk said then resumed his cooking.

“Yeah, Lance,” Shiro sat back with a grin, thankful the heat was off of him for a moment. “Tell me how miscommunication is a terrible start to a relationship. Had any issues there before?”

Lance punched him the arm.

“Don't go there,” Lance whispered, glancing nervously to Hunk who was fighting with a tightly sealed jar. “There's no _miscommunication_ if I haven't even communicated in the first place.”

Shiro rubbed at the sore spot on his arm, apologizing with a sweet smile.

“But yes,” Lance continued aloud. “You've got his number right? Just send him a text and ask him why he's being so emo.”

Suddenly, Shiro’s heart clenched. Nervousness gripped him at the thought of sending a text like that, waiting for who knows how long to get a reply. The reply might not even be favorable. No, in fact, Shiro knew he would be disappointed by what Keith would say back to him.

“That's not something you text about.” Shiro tried to skirt the topic.

Lance rolled his eyes. “It's not like you're breaking up with him. Now _that_ would be a shitty text to send.”

Shiro bit his lip, eyeing his phone on the coffee table. Lance followed his line of sight. Shiro had barely noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before Lance was diving for the phone.

“No!” Shiro cried as Lance snatched his phone up. He reached for it, but Lance was climbing over the back of the couch.

“Oh ho!” Lance grinned at the phone. “Keith with a little heart, huh? How cute.”

“Lance!” Shiro leapt over the back of the couch, chasing his friend into the kitchen. “Don't you dare!”

“It was the first thing on your phone when I opened it,” Lance teased as he danced around Hunk. “Almost as if you had been staring at his contact info or something.”

Shiro cornered him by the fridge, glaring at him intently.

“Out!” Hunk demanded. “No playing in the kitchen!”

“We’re not—”

“I just want my—”

“ _Out!”_ Hunk stomped his foot, pointing angrily towards the living room.

Lance regretfully handed Shiro back his phone as they trudged out of the kitchen.

“I wasn't gonna send a text, anyway,” Lance grumbled. “Now you got _mom_ mad at us.”

“You're the one—” Shiro started to argue but the took a calming breath. “I'm twenty eight, I'm too old for this.”

“Dude, just call him,” Lance laughed. “All you need to ask is why he's avoiding you. That's it.”

Shiro hated to admit that Lance was right.

Later that night, after they'd eaten their breakfast-for-dinner omelettes, and Lance and Hunk had left, Shiro sat down to stare at his phone. It was mocking him. He just knew it. He'd received no new texts or emails, and especially no word from Keith. Not that he expected Keith to call, but they did have each other's numbers. The possibility was there.

After his fifth circle of pacing around the living room, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, then picked up his cell. Then, he put it right back down.

“I am an adult,” Shiro sighed. “I make my own doctor’s appointments but I can't call one single guy?”

Finally, he steeled himself then dialed Keith’s number.

He looked nervously at the clock, hoping that nine o’clock wasn't too late to be phoning someone.

 _“Hello?”_ Keith’s voice picked up after the fourth ring.

“Uh,” Shiro said, mind suddenly blank. “It's Shiro. From work.”

A small laugh. _“I do have your number saved, remember?”_

“Right,” Shiro sighed in relief. So far so good.

 _“Did you need something?”_ Keith asked after a beat of silence.

“Oh,” Shiro shook his head, suddenly remembering why he called. “Yeah, um, how did the thing at home go?”

Keith paused a moment. _“Oh, yeah that. It was...fine. Why?”_

Shiro shrugged, then realized Keith couldn’t hear that. “Ah, well, it was just you were acting kinda odd today. Not like, in a bad way, or whatever. But I kinda got the vibe you didn't want to be around me. Which is probably stupid of me to think, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Another pause. _“Can we meet up?”_

Shiro looked around, confused. “Right now?”

 _“No,”_ Keith clarified. _“I mean, maybe? Is it too late to go out?”_

Shiro stood up, already grabbing for his keys. “Of course not! I can even pick you up.”

There was a noise from Keith’s end, like the sound of shuffling cloth.

 _“You don't have to go that far,”_ Keith suggested.

Shiro smiled into the phone. “I insist. I'll take you wherever you want to go.”

Shiro heard Keith breathe into the phone, the sound heavy like a laugh.

 _“The restaurant from last time?”_ Keith asked. _“I sorta skipped dinner.”_

“I'm already on my way.”

Shiro had never enjoyed a ride on his bike more than the drive to Keith’s apartment. Not even the guy who cut him off when he pulled out of his parking lot could spoil his mood. When he passed the rink, he glanced at it fondly.

As soon as he pulled up to Keith’s apartment, his heart skipped. Keith was already waiting for him outside, a black jacket slung over his shoulders. Shiro recognized the jacket as his own.

He left the bike running, as Keith trotted towards him.

“I forgot to return this,” Keith admitted.

Shiro shook his head, looking at Keith through the visor of his helmet. He pulled it off then shook out his short hair.

“Keep it,” Shiro said. “You'll need it for the ride, anyway.”

Keith pulled on the helmet at Shiro’s insistence, and threw a leg over the bike. This time he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Shiro.

They arrived at the restaurant just before ten in the evening and Shiro regretfully noted the waitress he'd frightened was on duty. She avoided his eyes entirely. 

“So,” Shiro said once they'd sat at a table. “Why’d you want to meet?”

Keith leaned back, fingers tapping at the table. “I felt bad for skipping practice. So I'm buying you dinner.”

Shiro blinked in surprise. “That's it?”

Keith gave him a confused look. “Was there supposed to be something else?”

Shiro shook his head. “No, I just thought… nevermind.”

Keith raised a brow curiously but let the subject drop when the waiter came by to take their drink order. Since it was a work night they both just got water.

“Thank you,” Shiro said after the waiter left, leaving their drinks. “I'm sure you had better things to do tonight yet you're here with me.”

After a quick swallow of water, Keith grinned. “I’m a nice guy.”

Shiro laughed at that, shaking his head. “Awfully cocky, aren't you?”

Keith licked his lips, still grinning heavily. Before he could respond, the waiter came to take their food order. Once he left again, the awkward silence returned. 

“Look,” Shiro finally said. “I've let it go for the time being, but I'd really like to know why you were avoiding me today. If it's personal, you don't have to tell me. But if I offended you somehow, I'd like to know. You deserve an apology for that.”

The front door to the restaurant was thrown open just then, and a very drunk man stumbled out into the parking lot. Most of the restaurant stopped to stare. Keith never took his eyes off of Shiro, though.

“I remembered what I said to you,” Keith confessed finally. “And what you said to me.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. He could feel his palms starting to sweat beneath the table. He gripped at his knees.

“Before you say anything,” Keith continued. “I was pretty drunk and I know I came off like one of your obsessed fans.”

The look on Keith’s face was pained. Shiro wanted to reach out and tell him he wasn't anything like those weird fans he used to have. Keith was simple and pleasant, and Shiro wanted the chance to get to know him more. But the words died in his throat.

“Compared to you, I don't quite measure up,” Keith said with a sad laugh. “I can't really hide the fact that I look up to you so I'm sorry you had to find out like that.”

Shiro shook his head. “You're not beneath me, Keith. Nor are you like those weird fans. I respect you as a skater and as my employee. I also would love to get to know you more. So, is that all you meant by what you said last Saturday?”

Keith worried his lip between his teeth, cheeks turning red.

“Well, shit,” Keith grumbled after a moment. “If I'm being perfectly honest, I think you're really attractive. I've only idolized you for the past five years, but I think I might have a crush on you? I wasn't sure at first cause I had stars in my eyes, or whatever the saying is, and didn't want to say anything until I knew it was a _legit_ crush and not something creepy like an obsessed fan but then you just had to confuse me and—”

Shiro started laughing. Keith looked taken aback, like he wasn't sure what to say.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shiro apologized. “I'm not laughing at you, I promise.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Then what is it? It's alarming when the response to a confession is _laughter_.”

Shiro wiped his eyes, smiling broadly. “It's not you. I've just been agonizing for the past several days about what you would say on Monday morning and then you don't even remember. I was freaking out over nothing.”

Keith shuffled in his chair, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Sorry about that, but…”

“But?” Shiro prompted with a smile.

“I'm sober now,” Keith mumbled.

“You are,” Shiro replied happily.

Keith took a breath, then exhaled slowly.

“We’re already here,” Keith pointed out. “Can't this just be…”

“A date?” Shiro offered. Keith pouted.

“I never thought, in a million years, that Takashi Shirogane would agree to a date with me,” Keith said. Despite his pouty tone, he was fighting a smile.

“You're really cute, Keith. I like you,” Shiro admitted. “Of course I would go on a date with you.”

When the food arrived, Keith allowed himself to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr for quality sheith content or on Twitter for fic updates and to see me scream about JJBA  
> EDIT: Since the links are being a bitch you can find me on both sites under the name "Sariahhime"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am...so sorry it's been nearly a month? School started and I had assignment after project after paper to do, it has been a nightmare.  
> I hope this chapter soothes your souls.. :)

“Can I walk you to your door?” Shiro asked with a smirk.

Keith laughed quietly, sliding off from Shiro’s bike. He removed the helmet and shook his hair loose.

“You’re not gonna ask if I can stay past curfew next, are you?” Keith responded jokingly. He handed Shiro back the helmet.

“Well,” Shiro grinned, “can you? Or will your dad be waiting up to give me the talk?”

Keith momentarily froze at that, face unreadable. Then just as quickly, he let out a breath of laughter. “I don’t think twenty two years olds need parental consent to go out with someone.”

Shiro shifted on his bike, reaching to turn it off, then Keith stepped away from him. Shiro paused and gave him a questioning look.

“I’m a big kid,” Keith said simply. “No need to walk me thirty feet.”

Shiro turned off his bike anyway and stood up next to Keith. He placed the helmet on the seat, then put his hand on his hip.

“I think you’re misunderstanding something,” Shiro replied, taking a step closer to Keith. “I asked if I could walk you to your door so I could be with you a few minutes longer. It’s a purely selfish request.”

Keith’s jaw dropped slightly, cheeks quickly turning red. He cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. He clearly hadn’t expected that response.

“Oh…” Keith said finally. He glanced at Shiro then at the ground. “Um, you want to be with me?”

Shiro snorted. “Of course I want to spend time with you. If it wasn’t so late I’d invite you to my place.”

Keith went wide-eyed at the implication.

“Wait,” Shiro corrected in a panic. “I just meant so we could talk and stuff. Nothing innapropriate, though...like ‘what’s your favorite movie’ kind of stuff.”

Keith smiled at that. “Alright, Mr. Smooth, walk me to my door.”

Shiro sighed in relief and followed him across the parking lot.

While Keith fumbled for his keys, Shiro leaned against the doorframe, watching his thin fingers closely. It was rare to see Keith without his gloves, but a nice treat nonetheless. Shiro assumed when the weather got colder in a few weeks, he would see less and less of of his bare hands.

“Thanks for dinner,” Shiro said when Keith finally unlocked the door.

Keith shrugged then the door opened slightly on it’s own. Inside, Shiro got a glimpse of an empty room before Keith pulled the door shut again. An odd feeling settled in Shiro’s stomach, but then Keith was in his personal space and he lost all other thoughts.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Keith asked, only a few inches of space between them. Shiro swallowed heavily, heart thumping madly in his chest.

“Yeah, uh,” Shiro stumbled over his words. “Tomorrow. At work. Where we work together.”

Keith grinned and shook his head. “You’ve sure got a way with words, buddy.”

Shiro pouted. Before he could make a retort, Keith pushed open his door just enough to peek inside. Shiro took that as his cue to leave. With a final wave, and a promise for another date, Shiro headed back to his bike. When he started it up, Keith had already slipped inside his apartment.

As Shiro drove back to his own apartment, he thought about the empty room he’d caught a glimpse of. The odd feeling in his gut didn’t leave him until morning.

\---

“Goooood morning, boss man!” Lance sang as he skated out onto the ice. He glanced over his shoulder and gave a disgusted look to Keith who had just entered the building. “I take that back.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Be nice, Lance.”

Keith stopped at the entrance to the rink, and smiled shyly at Shiro. He waved then sat down to put on his skates. Lance didn’t miss Shiro’s little wave back.

“Oh gross,” Lance whined. “Did you two make...amends?”

“You say that like it’s horrifying,” Shiro sighed. “And for your information...we had a date.”

Lance gasped dramatically, throwing his hand to his chest. “And absolutely no one saw that coming!”

Shiro ignored Lance as Keith skated towards him.

“Hey,” Shiro said simply, giving him a gentle smile.

“Hey, yourself,” Keith said back, coming to a stop right in front of Shiro.

Lance backed away slowly. “I’m gonna go get the equipment before this gets even more sappy.”

Lance turned then quickly skated away. Shiro had a feeling he was more interested in the fact that Hunk was in the equipment room, but he was in too good a mood to make any jokes about that.

“Is it too weird if I hug you?” Shiro asked shyly.

Keith pouted, looking down to his toes. He shrugged once in approval.

Shiro grinned as he stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around Keith’s shoulders. At first, Keith didn’t move, just accepting the embrace. But then he slowly lifted his arms to clutch at Shiro’s sides.

“Good morning,” Shiro muttered into Keith’s hair.

“Mornin’,” Keith mumbled back.

Shiro stepped away, not wanting to make things awkward. When he looked down at Keith, he caught him fighting a smile.

“I had a lot of fun last night,” Keith finally admitted.

“Me too,” Shiro replied, heart fluttering terribly.

A loud cough from the entrance to the rink caught their attention. They both looked towards the sound to see Lance waiting impatiently with the equipment. With awkward glances, they stepped away from each other and went to work

The entire day, Shiro was on cloud nine. Keith gave him sweet smiles that no one else could see, every chance he could. Lance’s jokes didn’t even bother him. At lunch, Keith ate with him in his office and they got to laugh and talk freely without worrying about little kids overhearing. Finally, at the end of the day, it was time for Keith’s lesson.

“Your routine is starting to really come together,” Shiro said proudly. “I think you’ll be more than ready by the time the auditions get here.”

Keith smiled, panting lightly. “You’re a good coach.”

Shiro chuckled. “Thank you, but you deserve the credit as the skater. I mean it, you’re really amazing Keith”

A beat of silence. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Shiro looked past him to see a new person in the stands. A middle aged woman in a red blouse and slacks was sitting quietly by the entrance to the rink. She was constantly looking from her phone to Shiro and Keith on the ice. He’d never seen her before, but she looked like a kind woman with a gentle face.

Keith noticed his curious gaze and turned to look. At first, his face was confused then it quickly turned to terrified recognition.

“Looks like we have an admirer,” Shiro said jokingly. Then he saw Keith’s face. “Are you okay?”

Keith gaped a moment, eyes darting towards the exit. Shiro looked back at the woman, no longer feeling like she was here just to watch innocently.

He placed a hand around Keith’s arm, gently shaking him from his trance. He looked up at Shiro who smiled gently down at him.

“Wait here,” Shiro said softy.

He skated towards the woman, who stood up upon noticing Shiro. She met him at the entrance.

“Can I help you?” Shiro asked, bodily blocking Keith from her view.

“Hello,” she said, extending her hand for a handshake. “I’m Akane Himura, are you the owner of this rink?”

Shiro eyed her hand a moment before accepting. “Takashi Shirogane. This is my rink, but may I ask why you’re here? You don’t exactly look like a skater.”

She chuckled lightly, brushing a strand of black hair over her shoulder. “So you’re the famous Takashi Shirogane. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh,” she gasped lightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on edge. I’m just here to see Keith.”

Shiro’s stomach twisted. “He’s in a lesson right now. So I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

She nodded her head gently, checking her watch for the time. She tried to peek around Shiro, but he shifted his weight to keep her from seeing past him.

“I see,” she said finally, fishing into her pocket. She procured a business card and handed it Shiro. “I would wait around to talk to him, but I’m afraid I’m short on time. Could you give this to him for me? I’d really love for him to contact me.”

Shiro took it warily, looking down at it on instinct. The information confused him.

“You’re a social worker?” Shiro asked dumbly, voice carrying through the empty rink.

Akane was about to respond when her eyes darted to the left, looking behind Shiro. He followed her gaze just in time to see Keith slipping into the front entrance from the stands, skates abandoned somewhere.

“Keith!” Akane called. “Please, wait!”

Before Shiro had time to react or even process the information, Keith was running out the front door. The woman tried to follow, but Shiro knew Keith would be on foot. He wasn’t sure why, but he blocked her path.

“You’re on the wrong side of this,” Akane warned. “I just want to help him.”

“Really?” Shiro replied testily. “It seems like he doesn’t think that.”

Akane checked her watch again. “I really need to go. Please just tell him to call me.”

Shiro finally stepped aside and let the small woman hurry out of the building.

Without another thought, Shiro called Keith. It rang several times before going to voicemail. He tried again and got the same result.

He left the rink, changed clothes, then locked up for the night. Before hopping onto his bike, he sent Keith a text warning him he was coming over, then called Lance. Naturally, he picked up on the first ring.

“If you’re gonna brag about your date, save it cause—”

“Lance, I need you,” Shiro said.

There was some shuffling on the other line. “Whats wrong?”

“A woman came by, some social worker,” Shiro said, voice starting to waver. “She was looking for Keith. But he took off and now he won't answer my calls.”

“Okay,” Lance said firmly. “Have you tried his house?”

“I’m going there now,” Shiro replied then threw a leg over his bike. He started the engine.

“I’m sure everything is fine,” Lance soothed. “Just take a deep breath and relax. Don’t start freaking out just yet. He probably just went home.”

Shiro sighed. “You’re right. You’re always right. Okay.”

“Well, of course I’m always right,” Lance joked. “Go check his house. Call me and tell me how it goes, alright?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Hunk and I can come to you at anytime, alright?” Lance assured gently, trying to mask the implication.

“I know.” Shiro smiled into the phone. “Talk to you later.”

Shiro hung up then pulled out of the parking lot. The entire drive to Keith’s apartment was nerve wracking for Shiro. He was constantly scanning the roadside for any pedestrians who might be Keith.

When he pulled up to the familiar parking lot, the sun had just set. Keith’s apartment was quiet and it didn’t appear to have any lights on. He knocked gently on the door.

When there was no reply, he knocked again.

“Keith?” Shiro called. “It’s just me...are you home?”

Silence.

Shiro looked up and down the complex, but there was no one outside anywhere. The place appeared mostly abandoned minus the few cars in the parking lot.

To make himself feel better, Shiro knocked again a little harder. There was no reply.

Shiro’s stomach twisted. He tried the doorknob with a sense of unease, and it opened.

It was dark inside, but the dim light from the parking lot illuminated it enough so that he didn’t trip over anything. Not that tripping would be an issue, since as far as he could tell the apartment had no furniture.

“Keith?” Shiro called again. “I’m sorry, but the door was open.”

Nothing.

He looked around at the poor state of the front room. The carpet was old and stained, the paint on the walls severely chipped or discolored in some places. There was a lawn chair in the corner, but nothing else to be seen.

To the right he could see a small kitchen. The counters were bare.

He stepped further into the apartment, fumbling along the walls for a lightswitch. He found it but was troubled to discover it didn’t work.

He shut the door behind himself, feeling very awful for invading Keith’s space like he was. But his worry wouldn’t subside.

He carefully crept through the small apartment, finding an empty bathroom then finally the only bedroom. There was a mattress on the floor but that was it. Shiro’s heart sunk.

Clearly, Keith was gone. His apartment was abandoned.

Shiro stood in the small bedroom, staring at the old mattress. A small patch of light from a street lamp filtered through the window. He focused on where the light fell, trying to put the pieces together.

Keith was gone.

Shiro wanted to grab his phone, to call Keith again, but he knew what would happen. He didn’t want to hear his voicemail again.

Just then, a noise startled him. It sounded as if someone had just entered the front door. Before Shiro could announce his presence, someone walked down the hall.

For a brief moment they froze, having seen Shiro. But then they stepped forward into the light.

It was Keith.

“Shiro?” Keith asked, looking around frantically. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Uh,” Shiro said stupidly. “The door was open.”

Keith’s face scrunched. “So you thought you could just come in?”

Shiro could feel Keith’s defenses going up. “No, it’s not like that. I was just worried. You took off so fast.”

Keith stepped away from Shiro. “Did she set you up to this?”

There wasn’t enough air in the room for Shiro. This was going badly and all he wanted to do was make sure Keith was okay.

“What?” Shiro asked. “No, I don’t even know what she wanted. But I’m guessing you do.”

Keith took another step away. “I don’t know her.”

“She called you by name,” Shiro said. “Whats going on, Keith? Are you really okay?”

Keith looked away. “You should leave.”

Shiro blinked in surprise. “I just wanted to make sure you’re—”

“Clearly, I’m fine,” Keith snapped. “Now just...please leave.”

Shiro looked around the dismal apartment, worry overtaking his hurt. Keith noticed his wandering eyes.

“Different than what you expected?” Keith asked with an icy tone. “Now that you’ve been thoroughly disappointed, you should go.”

Before Shiro could reply, Keith walked to the front door. He held it open, not making eye contact. Shiro followed him into the room, pausing at the door. He didn’t know what to say in that moment. Any words he could say felt fake.

Keith started to close the door, forcing Shiro out. With one last surge of courage, Shiro used his strength to hold the door open a moment longer.

“Whatever is going on,” Shiro said, gesturing to the inside of the apartment, “doesn’t change how I feel. I only want you to be happy and safe.”

Keith glanced at him for a second, before looking away again.

“I just want to help you,” Shiro said.

Keith glared at him angrily, then forced the door shut. Confused and hurt, Shiro unwillingly left Keith alone.


End file.
